Chapter 17
Dalhousie Hotel
They returned to the resort by late afternoon, and Kushal disappeared into his suite the moment. Ever since, he was pacing, growling into calls, taking updates.
She stood in her room, half-listening, half-lost in her own storm of thoughts, physically separate but mentally pulled into his orbit, wondering if his fury was just about Kamya’s unexpected connection to Anant and Sadhna’s divorce case, or if it was also about what had happened at the temple.
Maybe it was both.
She sighed and glanced at herself in the mirror.
She was dressed for the evening’s honeymoon couple event—a soft blush-pink chiffon maxi dress with delicate straps and a plunging neckline, cinched at the waist and flowing all the way to her ankles.
She’d pulled a cream knit shawl around her shoulders, more for composure than warmth.
Her outfit was romantic and undeniably feminine, something she wouldn’t normally wear, but the resort staff had said it would be an intimate evening with bonfire, games, and soft music.
She wasn’t sure what compelled her to wear it.
Maybe she wanted to prove to herself she wasn’t as immune to all this as she pretended to be.
Kushal’s voice, shouting at someone on the phone, broke her chain of thoughts.
Unable to help herself, she walked to the connecting door and pushed it open slightly. Her eyes found him instantly.
He was still in the same black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, pacing like a caged animal. The Bluetooth earpiece in his ear glowed faintly as he growled into it.
“No, I cannot call her and ask this directly,” he snapped, pacing in his room.
“If I confront Kamya now, she might tip off Noyonika. And then she’ll disappear before she even sets foot in Dalhousie again.
We cannot risk that. Let her come tomorrow.
We question her first. Get the details, then we decide how to go after Kamya. ”
He paused, listening, then his voice lowered to something darker.
“I want to know where Kamya is. If she’s not in India, find out where the hell she is. Contact someone from the financial legal desk at Verma & Associates. They must be in touch with her company. I want her location tonight. No excuses.”
He ended the call with a terse grunt, and silence settled.
Arundhati exhaled quietly and stepped inside his room through the connecting door. His gaze lifted to her, scanning her from head to toe in a single, unreadable sweep. But he said nothing.
She walked to the table, poured a glass of water from the jug, and brought it to him.
“You need to calm down,” she said quietly, extending it toward him.
He didn’t take it.
Instead, he stared at her. “Water can’t calm what’s going on inside me right now,” he replied. “And trust me, Arundhati... you don’t want to know what else might.”
He turned away before she could respond, scrolling through his phone again, leaving her stunned, not just by his words, but by the way he’d said them.
Was that a double meaning again? Or was she reading into everything now?
She was still staring at his back when the doorbell rang.
Kushal muttered something under his breath and went to answer it.
It was the receptionist from earlier, the one who had invited them to the honeymoon couple event.
“Good evening, sir. Just a reminder that the event begins in an hour. Here are your passes.”
Kushal opened his mouth, already shaking his head. “Uh… I don’t think we’ll be able to attend—”
“We’ll be there,” Arundhati interrupted smoothly as she stepped beside him, reaching out to take the passes with a sweet smile. “Thank you.”
The receptionist beamed and walked away.
Arundhati shut the door behind her, turning back to find Kushal watching in disbelief. Of all the things he expected, her agreeing to attend the honeymoon event wasn’t one of them. Not after everything she’d said to him at the temple.
There was still too much heat between them. Too much unsaid. And now, they were heading into a night designed for love and laughter... while standing on a disastrous divorce line.
One spark, and it would all ignite.
She didn’t offer him an explanation. Just met his eyes and said, “I’m just keeping the word I gave them yesterday. Nothing more.” And then she turned to walk back toward her room, but he wasn’t done. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist, pulling her to a stop.
He stepped in front of her.
“You can honour a promise you made to strangers,” he said. “People you barely know. People who have no place in your present or future. But you can’t commit to the vows you took with your husband? The ones made before God, before your uncle, before everyone who actually matters?”
His words landed like a slap, but Arundhati didn’t flinch.
“Double standards, Arundhati,” he added bitterly. “That’s what it looks like.”
That did it.
She yanked her wrist free and stepped closer, fire lighting her eyes. “You want to talk about commitment?” she snapped. “Fine.”
She jabbed her finger against his chest. “Those strangers didn’t betray me.
You did. My husband. My so-called soulmate.
The one person I was supposed to trust the most. I lived with you for five months after our wedding, Kushal.
And even then, I didn’t really know you.
I didn’t know who I had married. I didn’t know that the man sleeping next to me every night was this close to proposing to someone else before I came along. ”
He tried to speak, but she cut him off.
“I didn’t know I was a last-minute switch…your safer bet. Your strategic move. Just a ring away from someone else... and you chose me instead of her because I fit better on your path to success.”
Her eyes shimmered, but the tears didn’t fall. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“So now you better don’t talk about vows and commitment to me, Kushal,” she added.
Kushal’s patience snapped, too. His gaze hovered over the sindoor still glistening along the parting of Arundhati’s hair.
“If you’re so done with vows and commitment,” he asked coldly, “why haven’t you wiped that off?”
She stiffened, caught off guard.
He gave a bitter, mocking smirk. “What happened? Couldn’t find the courage to erase it? Or is it easier to carry symbols than to deal with what they actually mean?”
Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “I didn’t wipe it off because it’s sacred,” she snapped. “Because no matter what you turned it into, it still means something to me. I didn’t want to wipe it off casually and bring bad omen on you…”
She faltered for half a second, then corrected herself with a quiet, bitter edge.
“On me.”
She looked away again, avoiding his gaze. “It’ll wash away tomorrow morning when I shower.”
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Kushal exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. “One mistake from me—no, two—and that’s all it took for you to rewrite everything between us? You’ve spun an entire marriage out of two moments of failure and decided that’s all I’m worth.”
She said nothing.
“You’re willing to mourn what we had for the rest of your life, but not talk about it. Not actually listen. You won’t let me apologise, won’t let me plead, won’t even let yourself hope.”
His voice cracked slightly as he continued. “You’re angry, I get it. You’re hurt, and I deserve that. But your ego?” He stepped closer. “It’s louder than anything else. Even your own heart and body have been screaming at you to stop fighting me since the moment we got here.”
Arundhati flinched. He just let the silence burn between them for a beat before raking a frustrated hand through his hair and stepping back.
“If this is how it’s going to be,” he said like the fight had drained from him, “then even if you do give us a second chance… it won’t last. And this time the reason will be you. Not me.”
He looked at her with resignation.
“And this time, it’ll be on you for destroying whatever honest and intimate thing we still had a chance at,” he added.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the bathroom. Just before closing the door behind him, he said over his shoulder, “I’ll take half an hour to get ready. If you don’t want to wait here… I’ll meet you downstairs.”
The door clicked shut, and with it, the heavy silence returned.
Arundhati finally let out the breath she’d been holding. Every conversation with him left her breathless and chaotically charged. She turned slowly, and instead of returning to her room, she stepped out.
***************
The garden just beyond the resort had been transformed into a picturesque haven for honeymooners.
There were string lights dangling from trees like golden vines, the fire pit crackling in the centre, and soft instrumental music curling through the mountain air.
Lanterns flickered on tables arranged in intimate circles, casting a warm glow on the couples lounging close together, whispering and stealing kisses, laughing as if they were alone in their own worlds.
It was beautiful. And unbearable.
Everywhere she looked, there was a touch of intimacy.
It physically hurt to witness this. Her eyes wandered to a young couple a few feet away…
he had his coat draped over her shoulders, their foreheads resting against each other.
Another pair giggled as they struggled to roast marshmallows over the fire.
Someone played with their partner’s hair, someone else fed their spouse cake with fingers instead of spoons.
Romance bloomed all around her, and Arundhati felt like a dried branch in the middle of a monsoon.
She wrapped her shawl a little tighter and let her gaze drift away from them, only for her mind to drift back to him. To Kushal. To that infuriating statement he made earlier: “Even if you give us a second chance, it won’t last. And this time, it’ll be on you.”
Her fingers curled into fists.